Stoics & Epicureans and Psychopaths

It's that Big Day. I early-voted last week, fortunately for a candidate who has not yet withdrawn. (Or has she? Better check the headlines.) When the Establishment decides to establish a preference and a plan things clarify quickly, don't they?

[POSTSCRIPT: The headlines are truly scary, apparently I slept through a tornado.]

Back from chilly Chicago and the APA, where I shook Daniel Dennett's hand and thanked him for his prompt email correspondence years ago ("I wouldn't be so prompt today"). Martha Nussbaum and Philip Kitcher were other highlights, along with the James Society and SAAP sessions.

In CoPhi we begin catching up with the Stoics and Epicureans, for whom philosophy was always  much more than a profession. A colleague shared a note from an old student, expressing gratitude for the specific way philosophy (Plato in particular, not Prozac) may have saved a friend's life. You do that, said my colleague's correspondent. We all do that, my colleague generously deflected.

But honestly we don't all go out of our way, we academic philosophers, to relate to our students in a human way - let alone to save a life). We've been trained to see ourselves as professional scholars and our vocation as one of technical proficiency.

It was much more than that to the ancient Hellenistic therapists. It was a way of life that understood and actively disarmed the existential torments and terrors that can make living just, as Mr. Prine said, a hard way to go.

The Epicureans remind us to recall how little we recall of life before birth, and of how much we therefore don't have to fear, going forward. Relax, they said, think and talk it through with your friends, enjoy a simple life in the company of kindness. The gods aren't gunning for us. Aταραξια (ataraxia) is available for the taking, if you're willing to devote yourself to it. When your death comes you'll not feel a thing. (Montaigne will re-learn this ancient lesson, after Spring Break.) Meanwhile, have some fun.

The Stoics were similarly about simplicity and natural living, if a bit more grim about it. Cicero also said don't fret your mortality, though in his case there was talk of redemption in a hereafter. Seneca said life's plenty long, for most of us, but we cut ourselves short with frivolity, distraction, and procrastination. Wouldn't he have loved the Internet!

Are Stoics too cold-hearted and dispassionate? Are they Vulcans? Most self-styled Stoics of my acquaintance are, like Mr. Spock, at least half-human in this regard. Massimo Piggliucci, a contemporary stoic of some renown, says he's hanging out his shingle. So for a fee you can find out just how helpfully human a stoic counselor can be.

Fantasyland today notes that America has spawned a particular suburban dream and an idea of idyll in places like southern California and south Florida, which happen also to be hotbeds of celebrity and the fame fixation. Seems like more kids these days are more intent on becoming known and adulated by their peers. They might reconsider that goal, in the light of Stoic and Epicurean wisdom about the benefits of a quiet life among people who really care about you.

If we have time today we'll also talk about Augustine and free will, and I'll look to the lighter side of the issue and of his story, "make me chaste but not yet" etc. 

I saw a copy of John Kaag's new book at the APA, and also a sneak-peak preview in the WSJ. One of the talks at the SAAP session seemed to suggest that James liked "sick souls" more than "healthy-minded" happy folk. Not so, I think. That's not the posture I'd recommend, anyhow.

In A&P we're wrapping up Neuroexistentialism and considering psychopathy and personal responsibility. Patricia Churchland's Conscience: The Origins of Moral Intuition is good on this topic, btw. "Not every murderer is a psychopath; not every check forger, drug dealer, or habitual liar is a psychopath." Or every POTUS, just #45.

I have to agree with Stephen Morse, that the likes of Charles Guiteau and Bernie Madoff and Timothy McVeigh, crazy or not, deserve more from us (and less) than sorrow and regret "but not anger, blame, and punishment."

And I guess I have to agree with C.S. Lewis - or is it C.I., or C.L. - whichever of them said "a system that treats people as responsible agents is ultimately more humane and respectful" ends our book on a responsibly-sane note.